


A Debt Repaid, with Interest

by Just_Another_Day



Series: A Debt Repaid, with Interest [1]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Ambiguously Happy Ending, Angst, Background Relationships, Canon Compliant, M/M, Pining, Slavery, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 14:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18718693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Another_Day/pseuds/Just_Another_Day
Summary: A particular slave catches Nikandros's interest again and again by acting in ways that Nikandros doesn't expect.





	A Debt Repaid, with Interest

**Author's Note:**

> The background implied or past relationships mentioned in the tags are Kallias/Kastor, Torveld/Erasmus and Damen/Laurent. Also, there are some slight implications of consent issues of the kind that are associated with ingrained slavery here, so take care if you're particularly sensitive to such things (it's no worse than anything that appears in canon, though, to be fair).
> 
> I'm also going to claim this for the 'Master/Slave' square on my Kink Bingo even though this fic is only rated Teen ffs, because why not.

Nikandros emerged from what had, until very recently, been the Crown Prince's private quarters. Unfortunately, he found the hallway was no longer as deserted as it had been when he'd entered Prince Damianos's rooms. Nikandros froze in place, the lion pin he'd just recovered digging into his palm painfully as he reflexively clenched his fist around it.

Perhaps Nikandros should have been more careful about this, considering he was technically committing treason. But between servants and slaves and Kastor himself (and Jokaste too, apparently, since by all accounts she was sharing Kastor's bed), Nikandros had known that he couldn't guarantee that the royal wing would remain empty for long. And Nikandros's absence from the crowds downstairs would be remarked upon quickly as well. So it had seemed a better idea to opt for swiftness over caution when he took what might be his only chance to make sure Kastor never claimed the pin as his own when it rightfully would always belong to Damen. Nikandros had hoped to be in and out of this area of the castle before anyone even realised he'd slipped away at all.

It shouldn't have surprised Nikandros that this too would go wrong, given how completely everything else he cared about had suddenly fallen apart over this past week.

It still could have been worse, Nikandros told himself. At least it was only a slave who'd discovered him here. In Nikandros's experience, slaves didn't tend to speak out of turn about anything they observed about those higher in rank. So surely he wouldn't volunteer the information unprompted. And how would his master know enough to ask him about it directly?

But then Nikandros got a good look at the slave's face as he stepped back, allowing the candlelight to catch the front of his face and body.

Even if Nikandros hadn't spotted the for-now-still-unaccented golden pin at the slave's shoulder, Nikandros would have been able to pick out who the young man belonged to. He had performed for them earlier this evening, just hours after Nikandros's rushed arrival to Ios. Nikandros recalled the slave's dulcet singing voice, which had been pitched low to match the melancholy ballad that had been chosen for him, forcing the gathered crowds to pay extra close attention to him so they could pick out his melancholy words. He also remembered the perfect strum of the slave's slender fingers over the strings of his kithara later on. People had whispered of how this one clearly deserved to belong to a king, and that now despite the odds he would have that position after all. Even a palace full of the best of the best, this particular slave had stood out enough that his features had engraved themselves in Nikandros's mind, allowing Nikandros to recognise him now.

He wasn't just a slave. He was _Kastor's_ slave, who had probably been sent ahead to wait for Kastor in his rooms and warm his bed for him. That made this a far different prospect than if it had been any other random slave or servant walking the halls.

The slave silently prostrated himself in front of Nikandros, but not before his eyes flicked up to meet Nikandros's for a long moment. That couldn't have been an unwitting mistake. Palace slaves were trained too well to be unwittingly caught looking any free man so boldly in the eye. But if the look had been purposeful, then the question was: to _what_ purpose? To fully take in Nikandros's face so that he could describe him more accurately in his report to his master?

Nikandros couldn't afford that. Even if Kastor didn't find out about the pin specifically, he would probably assume that something even worse had brought Nikandros here tonight; that it had been Kastor's own rooms further down the hall rather than Damen's that Nikandros had intended to break into. That Nikandros would have laid some trap to threaten the newly-crowned King's life if he hadn't been interrupted. 

Kastor had always clearly considered Nikandros a pest, and Nikandros might just have just given Kastor a prime excuse to rid himself of that problem.

If the slave told Kastor. 

Nikandros could silence the slave easily enough. He had a knife sheathed at his waist. But it would only heighten suspicion against him if someone _had_ noticed Nikandros's disappearance and then the best of Kastor's slaves just happened to turn up dead. Kastor wouldn't believe that was a coincidence any more than he would believe that Nikandros might have come here for nothing more than a morbid look at where his best friend (his brother, really, and his _King_ ) had spent his final hours.

Besides, Nikandros had no proof that the slave would speak up. Nikandros wouldn't put it past Kastor to have ordered his slaves to act as spies, but it was nothing more than speculation. He couldn't be sure. And even if the slave was operating in that capacity, what choice did he have? Less choice than Nikandros himself had had in deciding to come here like this, certainly. A slave gave himself to his master wholly, to do with as the master chose. 

It was almost imperceptible, but Nikandros was certain that he saw the slave flinch as Nikandros took a step towards him. The slave obviously understood something of the position he'd stumbled into right now. Good. If he understood the risk to himself, then maybe he would also understand that keeping this a secret might be best for all involved.

So Nikandros just kept walking, brushing past the slave and continuing down the hall. 

There had been enough death in the palace recently. Nikandros would rather take his chances than unnecessarily add to that number.

Kastor mentioned nothing of Nikandros's excursion into the royal wing for the entirety of Nikandros's stay in Ios. And Nikandros didn't encounter any 'accidents' on his journey back to Marlas either. So apparently the slave really had held his tongue.

It was a pity that Nikandros would likely never be in a position to properly thank him for it.

*

It was irritating to have Laurent, whose personal experience in slavery wasn't something that Nikandros could even briefly think about without instinctively twitching his hand towards his sword, be the one to first think of and bring up the slaves that Kastor must have left behind. 

Laurent had not just requested but _ordered_ that the slaves be appropriately seen to (by which, Laurent specified, he meant that not a single hair on their heads should be harmed unless and until it was revealed that they'd knowingly and _voluntarily_ assisted Kastor in his coup).

In Nikandros's defence, it did make sense that he hadn't thought of the slaves straight away. His entire attention had naturally been taken up by his injured King and his own efforts to hold together a nearly shattered nation in his hastily-designated new role as Kyros of Ios. Once the issue of the slaves was brought to his attention, though, Nikandros immediately declared that he would be the one to deal with them directly. For one thing, he would like to be sure they were questioned carefully. Kastor's slaves might actually have been in a unique position to provide evidence of the treachery of anyone who had made pacts with Kastor in privacy, for no one thought to guard themselves around slaves. For another, there was a particular slave to whom Nikandros owed his personal attention. 

The slaves must have heard Nikandros's single set of approaching footsteps, for they were already in place prostrating in his direction by the time Nikandros pushed the door open. It didn't surprise Nikandros that they were all gathered together in the same room; surely they would have realised that something momentous had been going on in the palace yesterday and looked to each other for comfort and the illusion of safety in numbers. It was more surprising that there were only five of them, though the guard assured Nikandros that no one was missing. Nikandros had never paid all that much attention to Kastor's bedroom exploits (obviously a mistake, considering what he now knew about Jokaste), but Damen had always kept easily over a dozen slaves at a time, and King Theomedes had had quite a number himself before the illness rendered them unnecessary. Nikandros would have assumed that Kastor would have been much the same. Apparently, though, he'd been too busy scheming to manage a fuller retinue.

The slave from that day when Nikandros had secreted away Damen's lion pin was the only male among the group. Nikandros stepped up directly in front of him and ordered him to rise to his feet.

"What's your name?" Nikandros asked.

"Kallias," the slave responded without any hesitation, or even any signs of fear. Either he didn't remember Nikandros at all, or he'd clearly decided that if Nikandros were any threat to him after all then he would have already acted to harm him back then.

"On behalf of Damianos Exalted, the true King, I'm searching for information about who was working against him. I'm hoping you might have overheard people speaking about such things with your former master. Do you remember anything of that nature?"

"This slave recalls a lot of things, Kyros," the slave said pointedly.

Kyros. Obviously he knew exactly who Nikandros was, then. In that case, he easily could have told Kastor who he'd encountered that night, and yet he hadn't done so. That pretty much answered any question Nikandros might have had about the slave's loyalty. If Kallias had been willingly in league with Kastor, he would have revealed Nikandros's actions to Kastor then.

"You don't need to refer to yourself like that," said Nikandros. "Say 'I' if you like. This will be far simpler if you speak to me as if we are equals. Assuming, that is, that you're willing to help me?" To help him _again_ , Nikandros added silently.

Kallias raised his head enough that he was looking at Nikandros's mouth. Something about it – perhaps it was the oddly confident set of his shoulders – felt almost as bold as the time he'd briefly looked Nikandros directly in the eyes. 

"I'll do my best," Kallias promised.

*

Kallias's 'best' was impressive, as it turned out. He obviously had a keen mind for details, and he'd been paying close attention to everything that happened in the palace. Even when he couldn't answer one of Nikandros's questions directly or in enough detail, Kallias often had suggestions about which of the slaves or servants would likely be able to elaborate. 

He was such a wealth of information that Nikandros ended up spending quite a lot of time with him in the days after they'd taken Ios back. In fact, when Nikandros wasn't by Damen's side in the infirmary, or trying to keep Laurent in check so that he didn't take over the entirety of Akielos for himself while Damen was out of commission (without much success in that respect, admittedly), Nikandros often sent for Kallias to join him in his rooms.

Nikandros did need him there to answer important questions, obviously, but Nikandros also had to admit that he just plain enjoyed Kallias's company as well. He was unlike any of the slaves Nikandros had kept in Marlas, and not just because he was better-trained. There was something about him that was peculiar and interesting. Nikandros couldn't quite put his finger on it. Whatever it was, it made Nikandros want to find out more. 

After a while, Nikandros started often letting Kallias guide the conversation to different topics, as he was always more animated when he was talking about things unrelated to his time with Kastor.

A case in point was the keen interest Kallias showed when he asked, "So if the Prince of Vere is remaining in Ios, will the slaves who were sent to Vere months ago be brought here to serve him?"

That was a fair question. Damen would want to know that as well, surely, since the slaves in question must have travelled with him. Damen had probably met them. Spoken with them. Seen how they'd been treated by Veretians who wouldn't know how to care for their needs properly. And given what Damen had said about his change in opinion on slavery, Damen would surely want to see them taken care of now that he was in a position to ensure it. Nikandros would look into it. Especially since he got the impression that Kallias had some vested interest in their fates.

"You know some of them," Nikandros surmised.

"One," acknowledged Kallias.

"I'm uncertain what's become of them. But it should be a simple enough matter to find out what's happened to your friend."

Simple, but annoying, because it was hardly the sort of thing he needed to be bothering Damen with until his condition improved considerably. Which meant Nikandros was going to have to ask Laurent.

Though the grateful look on Kallias's face made even dealing with that snake worth it.

* 

"Prince Laurent sent the slaves that were gifted to Vere to serve Prince Torveld in Patras," Nikandros informed Kallias the next time the topic came up. "He informed me that he has spoken with one of them since. They are being well-cared for. You don't need to worry about your friend."

"But they will remain in Patras?"

"Yes."

Kallias nodded slowly. He seemed discontent, which Nikandros hated to see. 

Nikandros tried to raise his spirits by saying, "Patras will send an ambassador to attend the official crowning ceremony of Damianos Exalted when he is recovered enough. It was Prince Torveld who came to Akielos last time, and it likely will be him again. Perhaps your friend might be among the entourage he brings with him on his journey."

It wouldn't be quite accurate to say that Kallias's disposition brightened at the thought, exactly. But it did shift further towards thoughtfulness than sadness, at least. That was a start.

"Maybe," Kallias agreed. 

Nikandros made a note to arrange for a message to be sent to Patras to encourage them to bring the slaves for a trip back to their homeland. Which would mean asking Laurent to do it. _Lovely_. But the last thing that Nikandros wanted was for Kallias to grow even tentatively hopeful and then be let down when he could possibly have done something to avert it. Nikandros would do just about anything to make him happy.

When had that happened? Nikandros couldn't rightly say. Obviously it had been a gradual process over the past few weeks since he'd started having these meetings with Kallias on a daily (or more) basis. But he could hardly deny that it _had_ happened. Or what it meant.

*

Nikandros wasn't expecting the knock at his door. The servants had come and gone to make the preparations for the night, and he had been just about to settle into bed. He would have been worried that something terrible might have happened if the knock hadn't been too hesitant-sounding to precede the announcement of an emergency.

"Come in," Nikandros called out curiously.

It was Kallias who entered. Nikandros hadn't called for him, since his meeting had finished far too late to justify it to himself. This was the first time Kallias had come to Nikandros's rooms on his own incentive. 

"Is everything alright?" was Nikandros's first thought.

"Fine," Kallias said. "I just haven't seen you all day. I've grown so used to your company that it didn't seem right to go to bed without seeing you at all, even if only briefly. I thought… is it alright that I came? I know you've been busy and probably just want to sleep."

"No. I mean, I don't mind," Nikandros was quick to reassure him. "You're welcome to come see me any time I'm not with the King or stuck in official meetings."

" _Any_ time?" asked Kallias. "So you won't mind if I wake you in the middle of the night?"

"Not if you have a good reason for it."

Almost slyly, Kallias asked, "Would it be a good enough reason if I said that I just wanted to be close to you?"

Nikandros narrowed his eyes slightly. Was he letting his hopes affect him and make him read more into that than he should? Or was Kallias really saying what Nikandros thought he was? "That you wanted to be close to me in the middle of the night? While I was in bed?" he checked.

"Yes." Kallias sounded strangely determined.

Well then. "That would be a very good reason."

"Does that mean that I can I stay here tonight, then?" Kallias asked softly. 

He could stay here every night. But that was a little too much too fast, Nikandros was aware, so he didn't actually say it. "I would like that, if it's what you want," Nikandros said instead.

Kallias took a step forward, then another, closing the gap between them. It was odd to have a trained slave take the initiative, but Nikandros wasn't complaining. It was just another sign of how unique Kallias was. And Nikandros didn't necessarily want Kallias to treat him as a slave would a master anyway. 

Nikandros even thought for a moment that Kallias was actually going to go so far as to kiss him. But either that was just a little too forward even for Kallias, or otherwise Kallias had determined that he was simply not tall enough to reach Nikandros's lips with his own. Instead, Kallias ducked his head so that his forehead rested ever-so-lightly against Nikandros's clavicle. The curls of his hair brushed Nikandros's neck and the underside of his chin pleasantly.

Nikandros lifted his hands. One rested on Kallias's shoulder, holding him close, while with the other he ran his fingertips delicately over the curve of Kallias's cheekbone. Kallias tilted his head to the side just enough to press a quick kiss to Nikandros's palm. Teasing. Apparently the lack of kiss before hadn't just been a matter of shyness, then.

"I wish I could gift you my First Night," Kallias said. "It's what you deserve as Kyros."

Nikandros caught himself wondering how Kallias's actual First Night had been before firmly telling himself that he didn't want to know unless Kallias wanted to tell him. Better not to wonder idly about such potentially painful things.

"I told you to treat me as an equal, didn't I? And such things don't matter between equals."

Nikandros felt Kallias nod against him. But the way he avoided looking directly up at Nikandros, choosing instead to keep his head down and ring feather-light kisses reverently around Nikandros's wrist, did make Nikandros wonder how much Kallias really accepted that Nikandros meant for them to be 'equals'. It was probably a hard concept for a slave to grasp, after so many years of being far less than that.

It was a mental adjustment that would take time, Nikandros acknowledged. But they had all the time in the world. And Nikandros was more than willing to help him through it. And to prove that he really meant it again and again, if need be.

*

"I have heard the King has declared that he won't have slaves in the palace any longer," Kallias said early the following morning as he knelt before Nikandros and wound the leather straps of his sandal around Nikandros's calf. 

Nikandros couldn't help himself; the sight of Kallias presented before him like that was too inviting, and too reminiscent of how it had been the previous night. He brushed his fingers affectionately over Kallias's curls, causing Kallias to pause in his task, clearly surprised by the sudden gentle touch.

"The King has declared that he will free the slaves entirely soon enough. But I can arrange for you to have a different position of your choosing. You don't need to worry about being forced to leave."

"A position of my choosing," Kallias said pensively. "Do you really mean that?" 

"Of course I do."

"Even if the position I want is in Patras?"

It wasn't at all what Nikandros had been expecting to hear. "Patras?"

"The Prince of Vere was obviously willing to gift slaves to Prince Torveld in Patras once. I hoped you might be able to persuade him to arrange for Prince Torveld to take me into his household in a different capacity. A servant, or a performer. I have a lot of different skills. Prince Torveld would find it worthwhile to have me around, I'm sure."

"You hoped. I see," Nikandros said. The words grated at his throat. "And so what happened last night was, what? You granting me a favour so that you could exchange it for a promise to speak on your behalf and get you what you really wanted? You must be aware that I already owed you at least that much. And even if I didn't, you could have just _asked_. You didn't need to bargain with your body."

Though, Nikandros supposed now that he was being confronted with it, what other kind of influence could a slave really expect to exert? He felt suddenly sick, and not just at the revelation of Kallias's deception.

"That wasn't the reason," said Kallias. It must have been clear that Nikandros didn't believe him, for Kallias added, "Not the _only_ reason. I only… I wondered what it would be like. With someone kind, who genuinely seemed to like me."

Oh. 

Nikandros could only imagine what it would have been like to serve under Kastor for months on end. Kastor had never been openly cruel to his slaves, certainly, or he would have long since been censured. There were standards to be upheld, for every decent man or woman understood that slavery was a bond of trust not to be abused. Nikandros doubted that Kastor's practices had changed much in that respect even once he'd been elevated to King, considering how the slightest of additional negative rumours about his character would probably have caused Kastor's already-rocky base of support to crumble from beneath him so someone else could make a grab at power instead. But Nikandros still couldn't picture Kastor as being the ideal beneficent master, especially in private where there would be no one but the slaves themselves to judge him. And they, of course, would never have dared to challenge his right to treat them that way. Not even Kallias.

That made it frustratingly difficult to remain irritated at Kallias. But it didn't really take the sting away.

"And?" Nikandros prompted. "Was the experience worth it?"

"I don't regret it." 

Nikandros didn't know if that could really be called an answer. He truly wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to it, either.

Kallias went from his knees to his belly in front of Nikandros; a position of utter contrition. "I apologise, Kyros. I've wronged you."

"No," said Nikandros, "that's not… Don't do that. Sit up, or stand if you like. Just… look at me."

Kallias pushed himself slowly to his feet. His eyes raised, but not all the way to Nikandros's face.

"You aren't my slave. I'm aware that you don't owe me anything." Not even his open honesty, as much as Nikandros might have despised the concealment.

"I would have been incredibly lucky to be yours if I were to remain a slave, I think," Kallias said. "But you said it yourself: soon there will be no slaves in Akielos. And I can hardly bear the thought of being supposedly freed here while my heart is still collared elsewhere."

Right. No wonder he'd been so enthusiastic to hear news of the slaves who'd been taken from Ios to Vere and then to Patras, Nikandros realised.

"What's her name?" Nikandros asked.

"His," corrected Kallias. "It's Erasmus. It's my fault he was sent from here. I just… I need to see him again."

Nikandros nodded stiffly. "I'll see what I can do." 

"I'm sorry I –"

Nikandros raised his hand to silence Kallias. "You're dismissed," he said, the same way he would have addressed one of his guards. Unemotionally. Carefully so.

Kallias's shoulders fell slightly, but thankfully he didn't object. 

He left Nikandros alone, the leather straps of his sandal still only half-tied in place.

*

Prince Torveld drove a hard bargain. Nikandros thought at first that he would refuse altogether. But seeing the reunion between Kallias and Erasmus, the two of them clinging to each other and crying, obviously moved the man somewhat. How could it not when it did the same thing to Nikandros despite everything? And the coaxing smiles Laurent aimed in Torveld's direction (which seemed to annoy Damen to no end) apparently pushed him the rest of the way. So they came to an accord before the Patran delegation departed Ios a week after their arrival.

After Torveld said his goodbyes, Erasmus kneeled before Nikandros. 

"None of that," Nikandros said gruffly. "You're to be a free man now."

Erasmus frowned for a moment before he caught himself, carefully smoothing all emotion from his face. "This slave doesn't understand. Prince Torveld said there had been a trade."

"Yes. For your freedom and your return to Akielos. At some point in the next few weeks we'll arrange some kind of paid position for you that coincides with your skillset so that you can keep yourself busy and earn your way like any other freeman. For now, though, you should just focus on settling in to the palace. Someone should be along any minute now to show you to your new rooms."

Erasmus barely had time to react to that before there was a now-familiar soft rap of knuckles on the door.

"You called for me?" Kallias asked once Nikandros had called him in. He mustn't have been trying very hard to conceal his unhappiness, for Nikandros knew that Kallias was by far a good enough actor that Nikandros would never have known how he was really feeling if Kallias didn't want him to know. He was probably angry that Nikandros hadn't organised for him to depart with the Patrans later today. Nikandros hadn't told him what he'd been planning earlier just in case it had fallen through.

And because Nikandros had been being slightly petty, he would admit.

"I did," said Nikandros. "We have a new resident joining us in the palace. His possessions are being taken to the room connected to yours as we speak. You don't mind showing him around, do you?"

Kallias's reaction when he finally saw Erasmus and pieced the sight of him together with Nikandros's words would have been comical if it didn't make something in Nikandros's chest ache a little. He tried to be glad for them as they embraced right in front of him.

"He said I'm to be freed," Nikandros heard Erasmus whispering. "But that can't really be true."

"He wouldn't lie," replied Kallias. For the first time since the night they'd originally encountered each other, Kallias directly met Nikandros's eyes over Erasmus's shoulder. "He's _far_ too good of a man to hurt anyone like that."

*

Nikandros watched while the goldsmith removed first Erasmus's collar, then Kallias's. 

He truly was doing his best to be happy for them.

And yet, he thought wistfully. And yet.

**Author's Note:**

> And then one day Kallias and Erasmus come to Nikandros for a threesome and they live happily ever after, because fuck me for writing this ending where Nikandros is sad and alone.


End file.
